


Trapchata

by Anonymous



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Bottom Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Explicit Language, I Live for btm Jaehyun Its Heaven, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Top Lee Taeyong, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jaehyun needs a cock to cure his sexual addiction while Taeyong wants money—a lot of money—to buy his way into the entertainment industry.So it happens.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33
Collections: Anonymous





	Trapchata

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: POV First Person

Once he finds out how great my tolerance for him is, he stops treating me gentle.

It's my fault, really. I knew he wasn't and perhaps would never be a good man from our first encounter but no one could resist someone as godly-made as him, let alone a thirsty fool with barely any self-respect left as I used to be.

He was guided to my room, which had been reserved as usual, right after his performance on his first day of work, looking damned dubious after, as I presumed, the succinct explanation provided by my good old Butler Kim.

Which, in short, was to earn a weekly allowance that guaranteed would be handsomely given (I liked the pun a lot), by pleasing the benefactor, i.e. me. He could refuse, of course, say, if he found me overall unattractive.

Although I had known that he wouldn't do so judging solely from how much I could offer, I was nevertheless glad that he didn't. Later, after I was shagged like a used masturbation toy and still drowned to the overstimulation brought by the most dreamy orgasm I'd ever had in life, he confessed in a smokey low voice, that he thought at worst it would be some desolate spinster waiting, so certainly I had exceeded his expectations, all except my gender.

Rewinding now, I kinda miss how honest and caring he was then. Can you imagine that he even helped me to wipe myself clean, like from the inside out, mostly of his cum? Frankly, I can't. However, at the time, his handsome, almost AI-like face with guilt and a hint of panic hit me fucking hard, even more than his dick had.

That night resulted in a complexity of consequences. First, already pining for how well he had fed me, I reserved his next five years with no hesitation even before checking out. Second, he quit the job at the bar soon after. I never asked him to, but I'd cheekily assume that he did it for me. Last, I mused, while he went off the bed to dress himself, that I might have a crush on him.

It wasn't until months later, enough time for us to fool around like teens that had newly discovered what sex meant, that I finally got to know his name from a used TV at a randomly picked hotel, and realized that he probably didn't know mine either.

"Debut-stage of this week! Taeyong, the next super star from MS entertainment!"

I stared at the screen like a moron, at his ethereal appearance wrapped in a strange attire, at how he smiled distantly at the cheering hosts, the mouth that had been nibbling at my neck for a while completely forgotten. Well, at least I figured out what he had been up to while he was gone, and I was left all alone, still in desperate need.

When his eyes covered in aggressive, dark make-up came straight at me through layers of mediums, in a sudden nervous compulsion, I pushed the man busying over my body away, as fierce as a damsel trying to keep her virginity for her lover. The poor bloke cursed from the floor, cock dangling quite embarrassingly. My mind went blank, jumping back and forth between the usable dick in front and Taeyong squinting on the screen as if he's aware of my recent series of flings, of which I had no reason to be ashamed.

Fuck, it was a hard decision to make. I didn't give in to the absurd idea of chastity though, because I believed I still liked myself a little more. Thus the rest of that afternoon was filled with my unnecessarily loud moans for a man way below my usual standard. So loud that I got distracted by myself, rather than by the damned TV.

The next time we met, it felt like a century must have perished. Same place, same time, same me, same procedure for sex yet with a different him.

Taeyong. The name lingered on the back of my throat while he impaled me mercilessly. He's Taeyong, no longer a ridiculous, short-term obsession created for my own satisfaction but a flesh-and-blood man that had never appeared so real into existence. I couldn't say that I was unhappy about the change. After that long gap and a dozen of unqualified hookups, the way he made me wanton between his slender fingers alone was sufficient to send me to heaven. I desired nothing but him, from the state of being fucked sightless.

Humiliating was that I cried during climax, with a belly full of his seed and, I guessed, his waste too, given that smug look he sent to my bulged stomach; bold of him to choke me either, not that I would've cared to say no.

Maybe I should've, as that was the point when things started to turn rough.

Half hidden in the duvet, I watched him adjusting clothes before the floor mirror, and words were just squeezed out of my uneven gasps.

"I saw you."

His hands paused on the belt.

"Did you."

It wasn't a question. No where, when, or how. Somehow I could sense my heart pounding for something wouldn't be good. He turned around, leaning against the closet,and gave me a half-smile.

"I heard about you too, Jaehyun-ah."

**xx**

... Okay. Apparently, I needed more than a moment to collect myself.

The one hour lounging in the bathtub to drain what he had left in me discomforted badly. Besides the importance of wearing a fucking condomn, which he had neglected since the very beginning, but also for I knew exactly what I was in the eyes of everyone else, including those whom Taeyong might've interacted with.

A wealthy whore, an easy fuck, what else, a worthless pretty face? You know, people could talk.

To be honest, normally slut-shaming couldn't hurt me to the slightest; I didn't need old Kim reminding me over and over again that one day I'd have to inherit the family business to keep my dignity. It's just that…

...that I hated to admit I didn't want to be just a whore for him, even though the fact that I had been one for only god knew how long.

If this was another dumb game I initiated for fun, I had lost half of it for certain. He'd seized control without anyone noticing, and I was still strutting around proud like a predator, oblivious to the fact that the initiative was no longer in my hands.

I flinched as the water spraying out of the shower head touched my neck. He must have left me with a necklace of bruises; I didn't have to look in the mirror to acknowledge that.

Minor violence's always bound to get worse. It's a disease shared by men no matter rich or poor. At such realization, my body weakened, my head filled with soap bubbles questioning: _will he make me bleed?_

_Will he mark me with wounds?_

And,

_will he be in it as much as I am?_

**xx**

Opportunities came for him, one after another. Finally.

It's thanks to me, well technically my money, on the one hand; on the other, he did have real talent on performing arts. So undoubtedly, his career became big in no time.

My feelings about his success were not positive. The higher he went on, the lower my heart sank.

Imagine a kid who got a tasty chocolate bar by luck and brought it to school, sobbing when suddenly all his classmates wished a piece of it. Yep, that's basically me.

I panted my congratulations while riding him down to the bottom, feeling more gluttonous than ever. Taeyong looked up, let out a breath at the deepest inside and pulled me down for a kiss. Raw, yet telling. I trembled as our tongues intertwined, tasted rust, thinking that really, we had saved this until now.

It's great. Damn, had I ever blushed harder for how great it was.

Then the hope of having him—not simply for making out—ruthlessly pierced into what had remained of my heart. A rose bush, scarlet red, full of thorns, rooting out from the very core.

It took Kim ten minutes knocking on the door to interrupt, as we had lost the track of time lingering on the sensation of each other. The kissing thing had functioned like a disposable switch, once it's turned on, there'd be no way back.

When Taeyong's gone, I rushed into the bathroom to observe the marks he had left on my body from the hazy reflection of the glass door. I dared not to have a clearer view, for how real they might be, for how sickeningly obsessed I had become.

The hours before dawn were spent through drowning myself under cold water, a fruitless attempt to recover who the hell I was, and answering phonecalls made from across the ocean.

_Yes, everything's fine, as always. I'm fine, too. Love you all, bye._

Ha, my incorrigible life aside, I could at least make a good actor. Drowsy and unsatiated, I curled up in the recliner, fell into the dreamland in the first rays of daylight sweept my skin.

TBC.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I need the combination of Heartbreaker!Taeyong and Softie!Jaehyun.  
> I stopped here as I forgot what's coming next lol.
> 
> Inspired by  
> › TRAPCHATA - Gawvi


End file.
